


On Equal Ground

by rainsonata



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsonata/pseuds/rainsonata
Summary: Arc runs away after getting into an argument with Mastermind. The elder scientist leaves to search for the tracer.





	On Equal Ground

**Author's Note:**

> With tumblr's recent policy, I will start transferring over my older fanfics over time on this website. You may find them on as well. Thank you dezimaton for editing this!

“Glaring at the codes won’t fix the problem.”

A man sat across the table with his hands crossed with his eyes lit up from the implanted nasod core in his left eye, long hair draped over his shoulder into a loose ponytail. Sipping from his coffee mug, Mastermind’s eyes didn’t leave the page, running his fingers over Arc’s notes to mark them with red ink. Seeing how the older scientist was in his cat slippers and his notes were scattered at his working table, it was clear that he fell asleep over his work too. He smelled of coffee and cologne when Arc first walked into the lab that morning. 

Mastermind’s lab was cold as always, providing little warmth for Arc as he stared at the bright screen supported by Dynamo. They were his codes, of course, but Mastermind dabbled in them with a new variation far more complex from what he had used for his research. It was a familiar set of codes that appeared in Mastermind’s Dynamos, the first thing that caught Arc’s attention when he took a glance at them.

Tongue between his teeth, Arc scanned rows of numbers and letters before checking the notes again for reference, cross-eyed at the difficult puzzle. The Install codes were new for him, but if Mastermind could do it, it was a matter of time before Arc could understand them too. The codes were confusing when he tampered with them by himself, but with a bit of prompting from Mastermind, it was starting to make sense to him. If he brought this set of commands over to the next line, Arc mumbled a few numbers to himself.   

“Almost done,” Arc entered the last code and ran through it one more time with Dynamo for any error. Was the last row correct? He shrugged and activated the machine to come to life, puffing his chest with pride on what he thought was his best effort.

Mastermind hummed, “Let’s give it another test run, shall we?”

A simple but terrifying statement for Arc, twisting the collar of his turtleneck with anticipation to the inevitable. Yes, testing and experimenting was a vital part of research after all, but having his older self for an audience left him restless. Excited in showing what he was capable of, yet afraid of what the scientist had to say about his progress. He wanted to be like Mastermind, who held an air of control over everything at his fingertips. Was it childish to seek for approval from the older scientist if they were the same person?

With the hairband he had programmed to connect to Dynamo, he sent a few simple instructions for light to flicker as the weapon came to life. Somewhat wobbly in movement at times, Arc’s control over Dynamo had become more focused thanks to constant calibrations and updates to improving the sextuplet weapons. Purple sparks flew when he activated Drone Activator, hot wires whirling inside Dynamo as they converted themselves to form into a new weapon. He moved around Mastermind’s lab, tilting Dynamo make sure they configured properly, pleased with the results.  

Arc froze when he saw the smoke coming out and room was getting warm, Dynamo overheating when Arc ordered it to latch itself onto a dummy placed beside their working station. A small puck clung to the dummy for a split second before sparks flew out in a failure to stay in place, the smell of burning metal stung Arc’s nose.

“No!” Arc snarled.

Deactivating the machine, the sound Dynamo made when it dropped to the ground was shattering to the tracer. Hot to the touch, it almost burned through his gloved hands when Arc tore off the cover, charred metal sizzling as he tried to put cool it with Dynamo’s cooling system.

The energy source wasn’t sufficient to meet the new demands. He thought his codes were flawless with the new adjustments! Glaring at the pathetic garbage, Arc crossed his arms at the thought of having to find replacement parts for Dynamo again. What good were new codes if Dynamo couldn’t function?   

“Useless piece of trash,” Arc cursed, throwing the broken Dynamo to the ground and stomping his foot with anger. Now he had use a replacement until he could make repairs! Rubbing his eyes, he hissed at the coffee losing its effects on him. “Another failure.”

“Are you done yet?” Mastermind clasped his hands and rest his chin over his knuckles with cold eyes, “Are you ready to stop acting like a child?”  

It was embarrassing to be called out like that, belittling to be compared to a juvenile no less! His ears burned hot as his eyes trailed to the ground where Dynamo was, a cluttered pile of useless metal without the El to power them. It took all his pride and dignity for Arc to gather the strength to look at his codes again when he pulled them out from his database.   

Arc’s eyes widened at his error; he was missing extra lines of instructions for Dynamo to know when to begin the procedure. Shit, he messed up. Flustered, he scratched the back of his neck where the scars from his slavery days remained.

“Experimentation is never clean,” Mastermind said in a soothing tone, as if the tracer didn’t throw a tantrum. “It’s natural for you to fail the first few times, sometimes hundreds of times.”

If Mastermind was trying to comfort him with that statement, Arc was left disappointed, betrayed by how the older man shrugged off the notion that the tracer was supposed to fail. Wouldn’t the process be shorter and less painful if Mastermind offered a few shortcuts instead of throwing him into the frying pan to figure things out on his own? It was as good as Arc working on his codes without Mastermind’s presence when all his older self did was drink coffee and criticize him.

“Am I just a new project for you?” Arc asked.

Did Mastermind find amusement on how Arc did things compared to the older man? Was that why he tolerated Arc’s childish moments? Interacting with his alternatives would no doubt influence Arc to make different decisions that could impact his future. There were too many possibilities to foresee his progress.  

“Excuse me?” Mastermind blinked in confusion to what Arc was trying to say. “What kind of question is that? Don’t be ridi-”

“I don’t need your pity if that’s why you’re helping,” Arc’s face darkened. He wasn’t making as much progress as he hoped for, but he didn’t need Mastermind looking down at him, especially if the scientist saw him as a child.

Mastermind gave access to his codes, but what Arc saw with his limited ability to bypass the passwords was a half-finished product. When Mastermind stopped to explain, it made sense, so why was Arc still struggling? He clenched his fists in frustration.

“Is that how you think of me? A mentor for shallow reasons?” Mastermind’s voice grew quiet, placing his mug on the table with his hands clasped. “If that was the case, you have mistaken. I don’t gain anything by giving you those codes.”

“No, you’re like Father,” Arc snapped.

Arrogant, sleep deprived, and holding himself up on a pedestal of the one in control, Mastermind liked to nag. He didn’t talk as much as Psyker, but his eyes held weight with judgement when their gaze made it to Arc. Mastermind lacked the obnoxious boastful nature Asker had, but the way he hovered over Arc’s shoulder reminded him of their late father. He hated it.             

Light reflected from the artificial eyes implanted by Father, sadness flickered in Mastermind’s features with the scientist biting the corner of his mouth. It was like looking into a mirror to the discomfort Mastermind must have experienced because his legs were crossed, withdrawing his limbs until they were closed together. Without his jacket, it made the scientist look smaller when they were of similar body and stature.

“I think it’s time you leave,” Mastermind stood up with his eyes hidden behind his bangs. Arc strained his ears to hear Mastermind’s voice amid the machines, “We’ve done enough today.”

What?

His body turned ice cold, a numbing sensation that wasn’t from the constant presence of the air conditioner. Arc didn’t understand. How could their collaboration be over when they had just started? He turned to see if Mastermind was joking, but the scientist was already stacking his books and what was leftover of Dynamo into a box for Arc to hold.  

Suddenly, Arc felt smaller next to the scientist. Was Mastermind mad at him? Discomfort overshadowed the tracer in realizing he may have stepped out of line, more than aware that Father was a sensitive subject. Arm extended out for Arc to reach over to where Mastermind was, only to draw back with hesitance and shame. He ruined his chance of leaving a good impression for himself. Mastermind had finally given him the chance to prove himself and he fucked it up. Despite that, there was no anger from Mastermind when he spoke.

“There’s no point in continuing,” Mastermind sighed. “We can try again when you clear your head. Focus on the codes for now until the next time we meet.”  

Again? Mastermind was giving him another chance? In a small voice, Arc asked. “Why do you giving me another chance? Is it because Psyker is training Psych?”

Until recently, Arc came to Mastermind for help, but his older self was rather cold about the idea, at least until something sparked the scientist’s interest.  Psych came home one day with dirt and blood on his face and hair, victorious from a dungeon exploration when Psyker followed him in a less tattered state but just as tired from the trip. Ruffling the tracer’s hair, Psyker scratched the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. It wasn’t long after did Mastermind reconsider the opportunity to take Arc under his arms.  

With a sadden smile, Mastermind turned away and leaned on the doorframe. “I can’t give you all the answers. I’m sorry, Arc.”

Mastermind was not so subtle and pushed the tracer out of his lab, slamming the door behind for anyone in the hallway to hear. When Arc leaned his ear over to the door, his stomach twisted into a knot he turned the doorknob to discover it was locked.

* * *

Mastermind didn’t remember what happened after he shut Arc out of his lab. His hands were cold stiff, shaking when he picked up the papers on the floor to roll out the wrinkles and shuffle them into a neat stack. The burnt marks on the floor were easy to take care of with Dynamo to do the heavy work, leaving Mastermind to rest his head on the armrest of his chair with half lidded eyes. The smell of cleaning chemicals gave him a headache, or was it because he stayed up last night to be available in the morning with Arc? The scientist breathed and covered his eyes with his hands.  

That didn’t go as smooth as he had hoped.

Much to his surprise, Arc came to his lab first thing in the morning as promised with bright eager eyes that made the scientist chuckle. Based off the calculation from the older scientist’s notes, Arc’s codes were different than what Mastermind had when he was a tracer, but they could work. It was impressive how quick Arc picked up the new functions. Arc needed guidance and the occasional nudge when stuck on a calculation too long, but it wouldn’t take long before the tracer could catch up to him. Seeing his pupil progress on short notice made Mastermind want to puff his chest with pride. So this was how Psyker felt when training Psych.   

Frustration was something he expected when they were out of coffee and sandwiches. It was easy to become absorbed in their individual projects until one of them snapped under the pressure. It was to be expected when they were the same person. He would have been the same. His drew in his breath when Arc threw those accusations at him and lost his grip on reality. It took effort for Mastermind to hold in the emotions with attempts to smooth out the tracer’s anger, only for it to fire back because Arc was impatient and demanded answers and results.

The sound of broken glass pierced into the dead silence, a deafening noise of a portal opening. Hardly enough to warrant Mastermind’s attention, but ignoring wasn’t an option because a pair of gloved hands reached over to press over his face.

“I found you~” (A very cheerful voice chortled)

Mastermind groaned, shoving the hands away in annoyance.

A man wearing a black armored bodysuit let go of Mastermind and fell from the ceiling, landing on his feet with his arms dangling over his knees with a wide grin.  The chains at the end of his spine split into three, wiggling and curling up not unlike that of a cat curious to see why Mastermind grew stiff in reaction to the sudden appearance.

Another version of himself, and yet the most unorthodox of them all. Unlike him or Psyker, the bastard did it. Albeit saddled with side effects and flawed code leading to the wrong destinations, he achieved what Mastermind once thought was impossible. Esper accomplished time and dimension traveling.

Always carrying test bottles with him, it was rare to catch Esper home at a reasonable hour of the day. Mastermind turned his head over his shoulder for the time, checking again when the numbers didn’t sound right.

“Did Psyker send you?” Mastermind snapped.

“No, he said to feed yourself.” Esper cackled, “Did you miss me?”

With a giant bag in his arms (When and where did Esper get that?), the time traveler hauled it over and spilled its contents onto Mastermind’s workbench. Different colored bottles tumbled out, all of them marked and labeled – an overwhelming amount of elixirs that could supply the local pharmacy for at least a week.

“For you~” Esper gestured to the bag with pride, “Don’t worry, I have more if you need them.”

“That won’t be needed,” Mastermind gawked at the pile of elixirs. “It’s more than enough.”

How long has Esper been hoarding them? The time traveler’s room was as clean and pristine as his was - not because he was organized but rather because Esper didn’t have many possessions as them, or so Mastermind thought. Could portals serve as extra storage room?

“You’re spacey today,” Esper tugged on Mastermind’s jacket sleeve. “More than usual. Did you stay up again?”

“No!” Mastermind exclaimed. He took a…three, four-hour nap before Arc came? The scientist counted the hours on his fingers when Esper snorted. “Naps count, don’t they?”

Esper snickered, “You’re hopeless.”

“Am I?” Mastermind tilted his head to the side. Was that how Arc viewed him too? A hopeless scientist self-absorbed in his research more than others? Hesitant, he snuck a glance to see Esper’s eyes on him and asked. “Do you think I’m like Father?”

Esper stopped smiling, his eyes darkened and scowled at the mention of their late Father. They all hated Asker for the things he had done to them; although claiming the need to have a legacy, it has left mental and physical scars on them, insecurities and bitterness in the aftermath of it all.

“Why do you still call him Father?” Esper snarled the familiar title with disgust and glared at the scientist as if the other was Asker himself. “What are you thinking?”

Mastermind let his side bangs fall over his face. “It’s nothing.”

“I saw Arc leaving the house,” Esper said. His eyes were cross, but it was clear he was having an internal conflict. “He looked upset. Did something happen?”

“He failed another experiment,” Mastermind gave a dark chuckle. “We exchanged regrettable words to each other because he got impatient, saying I’m like him…”

A selfish man, Asker took little effort to acknowledge his family unless there was benefit for himself. Mastermind once asked if Esper had met other versions of Asker, but only received a low hiss and narrowed eyes that suggested it was best not to pry. What was he thinking talking about the madman around Esper? 

Esper let Mastermind finish, filling him in to the argument that went between the two researchers. The time traveler’s face transformed from simmered irritation to a thoughtful expression Mastermind didn’t noticed. For all the chaos Esper was prone to leaving behind, he was surprisingly a good listener when he wanted to be.

“Does it bother you?” Esper asked, “Is that how you see yourself?”

“No,” Mastermind shook his head. “I thought Arc could figure out things on his own. Am I a failure because I didn’t give him enough tools? It hurts to hear Arc compare me to him-”

“If you were anything like Asker, I would’ve killed you before you even reached this timeline,” Esper said with closed eyelids. There was no joy in his tone, but Mastermind caught sharp teeth sticking past the other’s lips.

“Thanks, Esper.” Mastermind said with sarcasm.

“You’re welcome!” Esper gave him a shit-eating grin.

Mastermind looked up from his desk to see the room in a disarrayed mess. Where was he going to store all the elixirs Esper threw at his lap?

Broken pieces left behind by Arc’s experiment were dusted and cleared by Dynamo to toss into a bin, but he was going to need something to get rid of the lingering smell of burnt metal and wires. Books and papers scattered the floor, but it was something Mastermind could fix. All his data were stored online, the books were for show. They were lucky to be testing on the traits for Drone Activator today instead of Psionic Generator. There was no telling how much of his lab would remain when Psionic had a wide range that could easily backfire if one wasn’t attentive when calibrating it.

“I don’t know what to do with Arc,” Mastermind admitted.

“He’s you. You probably hurt his pride somewhere.” Esper shrugged, “Go talk to him.”

 _We’re all the same person_ , Mastermind wanted to quip, but held his tongue back.

Was it too late to go after Arc and explain himself or did the tracer need time to himself? He couldn’t believe he forgot that his younger counterpart was more prone to losing his temper than some of the merchants in Elder. He understood himself less than he did with people his age.

Pushing the elixirs back into the bag Esper gave him, Mastermind let out an audible sigh. Where was he supposed to find Arc?

* * *

“What is this place?” Arc gasped.

Dark tunnels connected the stone towers together, binding them into yet another fortress that composed much of what once housed residents in Feita. In the present, they were homes to the ever-growing hordes of demons with only their population kept in check by the soldiers and adventurers that bothered to suffer through the trek. Surrounded by fog and Dark El, it was the perfect place for Arc to collect data and samples to improve his Dynamo system.

Although it wasn’t his first time in Feita, he was always with Time and Psych, who stopped him from getting too high on his mighty horse and derailing off the tracks when distracted by the moldy books on the shelves or by potential specimens for future experiments. Many of the artifacts inside were broken by thieves foolish to ignore the warning signs in the front about demons. Arc ducked his head as he flew over the wide pits with Dynamo’s help. They were mere replacements until he found more parts to repair the one he broke in Mastermind’s; not the newest model, but it would suffice.

“Amazing,” Arc held up Dynamo to take in his new surroundings. “This place has a high concentration of Dark El. It could be ample to power up Dynamo!”

Wind picked up when he entered a new corridor. It had a dark interior with mold clinging to the stoned walls, a tattled ceiling draped over with ancient writing that faded over time with the rest of the fortress. Fire torches lined up the walls to light the way, flickering on and off at random intervals that made it easy to see why the locals claimed the place was haunted by ghosts. B-but, of course there was no point in believing childish rumors with no evidence to back up those claims! There were no g-g-ghosts!

Humans were an ambitious bunch, building their fortresses for war and their places for worship to be just as grand. The fortress had bridges and platforms supported by chains that survived the years of neglect, fastened tight into the walls and gave Arc stable ground to walk on. With how high the ceiling was, it could house several of Velder’s inns. No matter how many times he visited Feita, it was hard not to be impressed by the sheer size of everything in the untamed ruins. He could see why adventurers found appeal in visiting Feita.

The ground rumbled when Arc bent over to examine the Dark El he had picked up from a stray demon earlier. Heavy wind currents circulated into the ventilated corridor, lifting the tracer and knocking him over when a loud roar shook the building. It was unlike anything he had heard before. What could cause such a ruckus to throw him off his feet like that?

A shadowed figure flashed across, baring sharp teeth and kicking its legs to stay afloat, blue leathery skin stretched over its scaled wings like thin lantern paper. It had a white underbelly and a furry collar around the back of its necks with horns adorning its head, glowing orange eyes piercing into its prey. A monster? It resembled the stoned gargoyles statues outside the fortress, a humanoid corruption of what someone thought a wyvern looked like.

It swooped in with extended claws, letting gravity pull its weight down and left marks on the floor where Arc pushed himself away to avoid the impact. Beating down its wings, it roared and left scratch marks on his jacket in a low kick when the tracer sent electric currents into it lower body. He locked into the primal beast with his drones, but the wyvern saw his intentions and slithered away, flicking its tail to bring it back into the air.

Arc cursed.

He looked up to see it flying overhead, tilting its head back for an ear-piercing roar that had the tracer covering his ears. Supersonic waves sliced through the boulder he ducked behind for shelter. The wyvern dragged its claws against the bedrock. Arc’s ears bleed from the sound like the creature scratching fingernails on a chalkboard. Its tail slammed the stony floor. The glassed ceiling was long gone, but it didn’t stop the floor from sliding beneath from the wyvern’s weight.   

Unless someone held down the wyvern, it would be difficult to use Dynamo’s homing system to lock onto it. A monster that relied on the skies to avoid getting hit, a pitiful tactic, but a smart one when most of his skills were limited on land. He could fly, but that would leave him no weapons to attack when in the air.

Arc launched himself into the air with the help of Dynamo, climbing onto the fallen boulders and standing several meters in the air until he was within the wyvern’s attack range. He could die if he was to fall. He created an array of pylons where he hovered, lowering himself down when the wyvern sensed his presence and turned is head. For the threatening menace it was supposed to be, it was stupider than it looked. His body was shaking for each pylon he left behind when he stopped to breathe. There were six of them connected into overlapping triangles, just visible to the human eye if one overlooked the sparks emitting from them.    

Once he found his footing on land, Arc turned to see the wyvern was flying. It was watching him. He needed to cause a distraction to make this work. How hard could it be? He was treading into its territory and gave it every reason to view him as a threat.  

“Panzer Buster!”

Dynamo configured into a triangle formation for the tracer to aim, a particle beam cutting through the dry air at where his opponent was. It avoided the particle cannon, having the audacity to dive straight into the tracer with its talons extended for all-out attack.

Arc smirked.  

Blood trickled down the wyvern’s neck, slumping its shoulder and collapsing through the weak floor, but not before using its tail to knock over a few boulders to block the way Arc came in. Its body was caught in an array of electromagnetic beams bonded together like rubber bands. The wyvern hissed in the pylons cutting into its armor like skin. Its wings were singed, but it didn’t stop the creature leaving gashes on Arc’s clothes.

Its claws were like daggers. Red overclouded his vision when Arc shoved it away, raising his legs as high as he could and kicking it in the chin before electrocuting it by the insides of its mouth. The blood wouldn’t stop. His jacket absorbed it like a giant sponge with the tracer worried on the possibility of passing out from blood loss. How much time did he have before his body would reach its limit?

His heart was pounding against his rib cage, sucking in air through his mouth and holding down the tears with gritted teeth. No matter the pain he had suffered in the past, it still hurt. Sparks emitted from Dynamo, his eyes glowing as the sextuplet weapons spread out behind his back. A black drone the size of his palm latched onto the wyvern, marking its target to guide Fission Shot, grenades aiming for its mouth.

“Particle Accel!” Arc retrieved Drone Activator in his free hand and jumped back to avoid the explosions.

Dynamo spun rapidly and formed a wave of heated particles, blinding the dim room for a moment. His body moved on its own with Arc slamming his body to the floor and laid flat to avoid the falling debris raining from above. Dust and smoke clouded his vision, but the fractured flooring was in the shape of a wyvern.         

Hugging his injured arm, Arc clammed his eyes shut to focus on breathing. Labored breaths traveled through his chest and into his rib cage into a dull pain. Not wanting to test his luck to see if his enemy was alive and breathing, he forced himself to move away from the destroyed room to seek shelter.  

Despite it smelling like moss and slime, he found refuge under the doorway of the room next door, tracing his gloved hands over the gaps between the stone bricks. No one was here except him and a few demons. Being alone wasn’t a foreign concept for Arc after spending years fending for himself, but living with his alternative selves have softened him. The empty rooms and silence hanging over his head was irritating. It was alarming how much it bothered Arc.   

Maybe he shouldn’t have said those things to Mastermind, but the way the scientist treated him was frustrating! What was Mastermind doing acting like he knew so much when he was the same as Arc not too long ago? Reminding Arc on trivial things like keeping his notes organized or nitpicking the tracer’s codes. Did Mastermind take him for a fool to need the obvious pointed out?    

Getting pushed out of Mastermind’s lab after the nasty exchange he had with the scientist left a bitter feeling for Arc. Clear his head? He was livid at the suggestion that his mind was in no condition to go on with the experiments, although with Dynamo in shambles, perhaps there was no choice but him to leave. Sharing walls with Mastermind left him restless and unable to concentrate because of that nagging voice in his head. Besides, Dynamo needed to be repaired.  

A dark shadow blurred in his peripheral vision, a glitter monster? Tall and broad, bronze armor hung over its stocky build with a rusty hammer over its head to attack. Arc turned to raise his injured arm with Dynamo in attack mode, ignoring the stinging sensation traveling down his veins in protest.  

Arc choked, “Pan-”

“-zer Buster!”

Free from the stress or desperation Arc had of fleeing from monsters and the like, the new voice was older, poised and controlled. Mastermind was out of his pajamas with a white lab coat over his vest and Dynamo lining up from behind into a perfect semicircle. The particle beam tossed the glitter monster to the air, crushing its body against the walls and killing it from the pressure. Not a single hair was out of place when he turned to Arc.       

“I knew I was a fool, but I wanted to believe you would be different.” Mastermind drawled, “You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”  

* * *

As far as Mastermind was concerned, Feita was but a distant memory from a time when following the El Search Party was the furthest thing he had as a goal to strive for. Was it the Nasod armor he wished to complete or was he going to reconsider his plans on additional research to see if returning to the past was possible? Restless and indecisive, aiding the hopeless soldiers and archeologists in Feita gave him a peace of mind with wonders of the dark El and making use of the situation for his research.

Luckily, Arc wasn’t him. Surrounded by their counterparts and a premature encounter of the El Search Party, that should have been enough to divert Arc’s future to become a different path of what Mastermind went through. Arc’s visits to Feita held none of the desperation Mastermind had when he was a tracer, or at least that was what he had hoped for anyway. There was no rush when Arc expressed wanting to learn coding under him, only genuine interest of a bright student that made Mastermind smile.     

“This ‘idiot’ defeated the monster himself,” Arc sneered. “I don’t need your help.”

Mastermind glanced at the blood gushing through the sleeves on Arc’s jacket, “Really? It’s going to be hard bandaging with one arm.”

The tracer huffed with cheeks tinged pink, “I’m bleeding, not getting amputated.” 

Using his free and uninjured arm to unzip the bag dispensed around his waist, Arc dug through the contents and tossing them to the side for display. He unraveled the bandage rolls caught around his fingers in a tangled mess, his troubled eyes making it clear he was unsure on where to go from there. The disinfectant wipes smeared in red; panic flashed in Arc’s eyes as the tracer grabbed a few from his bag to stop the bleeding but his hands were shaking.

“Here,” Mastermind gently pried the bandage wraps from Arc to let the other finish cleaning up the wounds. “Let me hold this.”  

Mastermind frowned when he saw how stiff the tracer’s fingers were from gripping the bandages. Before his counterpart could react, he found the ointment and cream to pour over the cuts. Wrapping the bandage wraps across the right forearm, he made sure they overlapped enough times to endure for a few hours; they clung to Arc’s skin like wet paper mache.

They were miles from the closest signs of civilization and everything in this damn fortress wanted them dead. Velder’s emblem followed them on all the tattered tapestries draped over the wall. His shoes were stuck to the ground with each sticky step from the dried demon blood, black ink blots trapped on the flooring.    

Guilt panged inside Mastermind’s chest, frigid air chilling through the pores of his skin and prickling the hairs on his arms. Mastermind had fought the same monsters in Feita over a year ago as well, but seeing the results on his younger alternative was rather unsettling, despite reassuring himself that Arc was capable of fending for himself. Did Vanessa and the older soldiers feel the same when they were apprehensive to his abrupt appearance in Velder with demon blood splattered on his jacket?

“Um, Mastermind? My arm,” Arc pulled his arm away from the scientist to regain control. The skin in the bandaged area pinched in an uncomfortable shade of red.  

“Sorry,” Mastermind loosened his grip when realizing the bandages were too tight and let the tracer do the wrapping himself.  Rubbing the back of his neck, he could feel the scar’s leathery texture underneath his shirt collar.  

Arc asked, “How did you find me?”

“Huh?” Mastermind looked at the tracer, “Esper saw you heading to Feita. I heard your little fight from outside.”

“It was a quick battle,” Arc bragged. “It knows nothing but flying.”  

Arc showed his teeth, a dissonance to the hard-glazed look over his eyes. Mastermind wondered how often he held the same front of insecurities obscured by a fixed smile. Placing his hand over Arc’s shoulder, the scientist could feel the tracer’s muscles tense in response.  

“Are you mad at me?” Arc’s smile wavered when Mastermind didn’t return one.  

It was a simple question, but the anxiousness in his intonation made it harder for Mastermind to look at Arc without wincing at the bandages. Mastermind once assumed he was bothered by the tracer for being too arrogant for his own good, but that wasn’t it. The persistent tagging along in labs, the not-so-subtle attempts to impress the scientist, and the never-ending questions… How could Mastermind be oblivious to the obvious? Arc looked up to him and he failed him for not showing up until the last minute.   

“No,” Mastermind averted his eyes. Did he really deserve this treatment when he acted so cold to Arc? “What I said to you in the lab… Perhaps I was wrong.”

Arc stared at the scientist.          

“I suppose that’s to be expected when both of us are impulsive idiots,” the older researcher waved his hands. He was sure Arc could see through him and that he was an idiot for trying to be casual. “I thought I offered enough resources for you, a big mistake on my part. That isn’t enough.”

The archeologists in Feita recognized the young tracer and were quick to point Mastermind to which fortress he wandered off to. Arc’s presence was apparent by the damage left inside the Heart of Spire, sloppy burned marks on the walls from an older Dynamo model. There were no signs of struggle until Mastermind arrived at the final chamber to find the wyvern trapped beneath fallen debris. His heart stopped at the thought of finding Arc’s body.

“You think my feelings were hurt because of you?” Arc sighed, “I don’t need you to hold my hand for everything. I’m not a child.”

It was becoming harder for Mastermind to breathe, a fleeing thought had the researcher wonder if it was possible for Alteran spores to reach the outskirts of Feita. Blood on the floor trailed from the previous room to where the wyvern dwelled, fur from the creature’s neck tuff lingering on the cobblestone. Judging by the sight of the occasional stray demons sighted inside the fortress, it was unlikely that the creature was dead. Weaker demons like the glitter monsters liked flock to stronger demons to rely on them for protection.          

Although he still a teen, it was hard not to think of Arc as a child when the younger researcher was less adept in controlling Dynamo and was impatient in combat, sometimes letting his impulsiveness get the better of him. His hunger for knowledge was overwhelming at times, but Mastermind understood why. There was so much to research in a world that was centuries ahead of the one they were born in.

Mastermind pitied the demons left to suffer at the end of Arc’s Dynamo. Despite using an inferior model of the weapon, the blood and shredded scales left behind in the left wing from the battle was enough to tell a story to what happened. Arc was learning, but he took on the wyvern better than Mastermind expected, maybe too well.     

The older researcher froze when he smelled blood from the room next door. “No, you’re not.”

There was sadness in Mastermind’s voice, laughing bitterly at the mere thought that Arc or any version of himself could live a normal life. Not even Elbrat had the privilege to having a proper childhood. Was it foolish to hope that things would be different for Arc because his future deviated from his?

A squeak escaped from Arc when Mastermind pulled the tracer in and wrapped his arms around for a tight hug. Almost as tall as Mastermind, Arc lowered his head to hide his face turning pink and blinked his eyes in confusion when the older scientist mumbled an apology.    

“I’m sorry.”  

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” Arc was just as embarrassed.

“You said I was like Father,” Mastermind said. It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement that was enough to have Arc jump in to correct himself.

“Only because you fuss too much,” Arc said. “You’re nothing like him. You’re more like a bother than a father.”

It took Mastermind a split second to register Arc’s words.

_…brat._

“You take care of me when I’m not feeling well and let me eat sweets, something Father would never do.” Arc explained, “Sometimes, you cook food and help me with Dynamo. You even bake cookies! You’re more like Moth-”

“We should move before it comes back,” Mastermind let go and covered his lower face to hide his embarrassment. Psyker was never going to let him live it down if he found out that Arc saw him as a parental figure. “Why don’t we get something before we go home?”

Arc’s face lit up.

* * *

_Omake_

Arc held his ice cream cone up to his face for each lick, afraid of loosening his grip and getting splattered ice cream on his jacket. His ice cream was white chocolate raspberry with a bright confectionery of fresh raspberries and crushed chocolate pieces sprinkled over. Arc’s eyes widened when Mastermind suggested the ice cream shop blocks away from their house, following and thanking the scientist for the fifth time.

“It’s just ice cream,” Mastermind turned pink.

“I’m not mad anymore,” Arc said. “You don’t have to bribe me with ice cream.”

“I’m not bribing you.” There was something innocent about the genuine confusion on Mastermind’s face. He sounded worried when he noticed how slow Arc was eating his ice cream. “If you don’t like it-”

“I do,” Arc sank his teeth a raspberry, a sweet but tangy taste lingered on the tip of his tongue.

If Mastermind was going to act like this every time he was caught doing something of selflessness, Arc didn’t mind getting into another fight with the demons to see the scientist be more genuine in his words and actions. Out of Arc’s insistence, the older researcher ordered an espresso chocolate truffle ice cream in a waffle cone.

It was hard to believe they were once inside one of the most isolated places in Elrios. Arc held his breath when they resurfaced back to civilization with ice cream in hand, fearful that once they were out of danger, Mastermind would return to his grumpy decaffeinated self. With a sheepish smile, Mastermind joined the tracer on the benches outside the ice cream shop, sometimes looking at Arc with a thoughtful expression.      

Like most of their counterparts, Mastermind was conservative on apologies, but there was pain in his eyes when he found Arc. Were Arc’s injuries so bad to make the older scientist feel guilty?    

“I’m still alive,” Arc said when he caught Mastermind staring at his bandages again.

Mastermind gave a weak smile, “You’ll need to be alive if you want to upgrade Dynamo to half of what I am.”

“Okay, Dad,” Arc stuck out his tongue.

Mastermind was about to burst a vein and twitched. “I’m not your father.”

“Fine, _Mom_.”           

Arc snickered when the scientist fumed.


End file.
